Page 2 of Duke of the Sun

She turned to see one of the Manor’s footmen standing there, bowing his head respectfully.

“The Duke requests your presence in the parlor.”

Irene’s slender brown brow rose. “Did you hear that, Cordelia?”

“No need to rub it in,” she mumbled, finally lowering the brush onto the easel.

After straightening out her dress, not bothering to swipe at the bits of dried paint that clung to her fingers and arms, Cordelia held her head up high as she crossed her bedroom. Irene followed silently behind her with gentle steps. All the way through the halls and down the stairs, Cordelia felt her heart beginning to patter harder against her chest. Not that confronting her father frightened her, but rather, there was the ever present gnawing thought in the back of her mind that never dared to leave her.

Cordelia grew more whittled every time she realized she was not as elegant as Irene, or as serious as Duncan. The closer she came to her father, hearing the distant sounds of his disgruntled shouts, the more she remembered how much of an outlier she was in the society she needed to be fluent in.

Irene took a few longer strides to walk beside her. “Perhaps you might regard Father with a higher respect than you have in the past.”

“What on earth for?”

Irene shook her head with disappointment. “You never understand, Cordelia.”

They came upon the parlor before their conversation could continue any further. Cordelia marched inside proudly. There wasn’t a thing she had done wrong, at least, nothing she knew of off the top of her head. Never before was her painting a problem, especially when it kept her from doing something the family would, once again, feel ashamed over. Not that she outrightly did something to procure shame. No, Cordelia just happened to not fit the mold the rest of her siblings so easily squeezed into. Was that such a bad thing? She took in a deep breath as she rounded the room to stand in front of her flaming father.

Behind him, Duncan had a hand on the top of their father’s seat. He watched Cordelia with a tight frown, his head already swaying with chagrin.

“Good afternoon, Father,” Cordelia said. “You called for me?”

Solomon Celeston, the Duke of Darken, was a fairly frail man. None of them could blame him. The man carried his Dukedom along with the succession of his children on his shoulders. Their mother passed years ago, leaving him solely responsible for their courtships and future legacies. While Irene and Duncan remained blessed children, willing to be the pictures of perfection in society, Cordelia never once strayed from being the odd one out.

He made an effort to rise from his chair but collapsed into it instead, receiving a steady hand from Duncan on his shoulder. Solomon breathed in sharply, looking up at Cordelia with an untamed glare. He carried the wispy sheets of scandal sheets in one hand.

“You will truly be the death of me, child,” he snapped.

Cordelia fought the urge to roll her eyes. “What have I done now, Father?”

“Respect, Cordelia,” Duncan warned.

Solomon thrusted the pages towards her. “All of the Ton know the scandal that has now found its way into our family,” he explained. “What say you, child? Explain yourself!”

Cordelia reached for the pages. The daily prints always had some sort of scandal recently committed listed in a short column within the papers, but she rarely paid them any mind. All of it sounded rather improper, and yet,shewas the one known as being too free spirited for the Ton. With a wary eye, Cordelia scanned the column.

“The foolish boy has thrust our name into ruin,” Solomon continued, smacking his fist against the armrest. “Do you have any idea what this means for your family, Cordelia? What you have done to us now?”

She shook her head, the words not making any sense. “Run away?” she murmured, reading the column aloud. “The Earl of Vaun has…run away?”

“He is safe from most scandal,” Duncan suddenly added.

Irene huffed from her spot on the sofa. “Nevermind the consequences we shall now face in the light of his poor actions.”

Cordelia could barely hear them. Not that she wassad.In fact, a bit of her glistened with a newfound hope. There was no piece of her that wished to marry Colin Evans, the Earl. He was a fine gentleman, as most happened to be, but it was obvious that he too had no interest in her. But to run off with a lover? All the way to Gretna Green? She lowered the pages, almost dropping them to the floor.

If anything, she was quite jealous. The Earl was officially free of unwarranted responsibility and the repercussions of his actions. Instead, it now rested in Cordelia’s lap.

“Are you proud, child?”

Cordelia raised her face to her father once more. “The Earl is more than capable of making decisions on his own,” she said.

“Do you have no care for what this has done to our name?”

“Perhaps it is a blessing we were blind to.”

An uneasy silence took over the parlor. With shaking legs, Solomon slowly rose to his feet, instantly towering over his youngest daughter. Behind him, Duncan stood steadfast, one hand out to steady his father if need be. Cordelia glanced between them and grew sour.

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